


Benediction

by raidelle



Series: Raidelle's Alphabet Prompts [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/pseuds/raidelle
Summary: Seven years of darkness, and Ignis feels as if they are hurtling toward more darkness and nothing more. Prompto helps Ignis through it all.





	Benediction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlecakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/gifts).



> The prompt chosen was **Undress** for either Ignoct or Promnis with blind Ignis.
> 
> I chose Promnis for this one and set it in WOR. I kind of feel I went off-prompt and that it's a bit similar to another fic of mine ([Dark Waters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655338)), but this is where the muse took me so... I hope you still like it.
> 
> Enjoy reading and please do tell me what you think. :)

“Oh. My. Gods. I can’t feel my arms.” Prompto throws himself unceremoniously onto their rickety sofa. His groan is bone-deep tired and the sigh that follows is both resolute and resigned. “Fuck, I’m never agreeing to a week-long op ever again. Not if I can help it,” he declares.

With an unhappy grunt, he bends forward to unlace his boots. “Can’t we ask Cor or maybe Monica for a break from hunts? Maybe put us on the full-time support roster even for just week or two? We need a fucking break.”

Ignis gives only a “Hmm” in reply, but there was something underneath that made Prompto look up curiously. It’s only because he’s learned how to read each nuance of Ignis’s expressions that Prompto is able to detect the forbidding set of those scarred lips.

“Babe?” Prompto says, tentative and questioning.

“Let’s give Monica a call then,” Ignis says tersely. He places his own boots on the shelf by the door and pulls out his phone from the pocket of his heavily stained jeans. Before he could issue a voice command, however, the phone trills with the tone he’s assigned exclusively for Cor.

Ignis lets out a frustrated, angry breath through his nose and Prompto’s curiosity morphs into bewilderment. “Come here, babe,” he says, reaching out a hand for Ignis to hold. He curls his fingers just so, so that the leather of his gloves creaks a little more loudly. Ignis gravitates toward the sound and Prompto scoots a little to make room.

“Answer call on speaker,” Ignis says as soon as he sits down. His tone was almost threatening and Prompto’s eyebrows knit in deepening confusion.

Cor’s voice crackles through the static. “Ignis, Prompto, are you back in Lestallum?” the Marshal says by way of greeting.

“Yeah, we just got back,” Prompto responds. “Literally just closed the front door behind us.”

“Good. We need you to report back to HQ tomorrow. We still have to --”

To Prompto’s great surprise, Ignis cuts Cor off. “Actually, Marshal, we were just about to call you. If you would be so kind as to put us on FTS for the next thirty days, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Prompto’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. “Thirty days?” he mouths in stunned silence. Ignis doesn’t see it, of course, but Prompto has a feeling that his boyfriend already knows that there are blue-violet eyes currently staring at him in shock.

Five awkward seconds tick by before Cor clears his throat and gives voice to Prompto’s initial reaction. “Thirty days?”

“I doubt we can convince you to give us two whole months off,” Ignis says, voice tightly controlled. This time, it’s more than a feeling; Prompto knows Ignis will brook no argument, insubordination be damned.

Cor heaves a sigh from the other end of the line, and Prompto could picture him wiping a hand down his face. “All right then. But I --”

Ignis interrupts Cor again. “I suppose it would be too much to ask for complete radio silence as well?”

“Ignis --”

“If you need to contact us, you can call me instead, Marshal,” Prompto says in a hurry to defuse the situation. “I’ll also get in touch with Monica tomorrow to, uh, finalize the details.”

Cor sighs again before relenting. “Fine,” he barks before cutting the connection.

Ignis puts his phone down rather violently on the sofa and literally growls. Then, in an abrupt change of moods enough to give Prompto whiplash, Ignis stands up, covers the eight steps it takes to reach the kitchen from the living area and asks in deceptively cool voice, “Would you like some tea?”

“Um. Okay,” Prompto says. Then, because he doesn’t know what else to do, he adds, “Are you okay, babe?”

Again, Ignis replies with a “Hmm.” He goes through the motions of preparing their teas in silence, which grows heavier and heavier by the second.

Prompto couldn’t sit still through the tension. Letting his puzzlement take over, he goes to the kitchen to lean against the counter as Ignis putters around. “Are you okay, babe?” he dares ask again. “If you didn’t want to be on FTS you could’ve just --”

“Like you said,” Ignis hisses through gritted teeth. “We need a _fucking break._ ”

It isn’t the swear word that stuns Prompto but rather the anguish that laces it. “Iggy?”

“Maybe we should take a fucking break from everything!” Ignis yells and Prompto reels. Ignis never, ever yells. “Seven years of slaying daemons and studying ruins and texts and going on supply raids and what have we got to show for it? _Astrals damned nothing_ but more of this forsaken darkness! Why are we even still doing this?” His waves a careless hand and sends a mug crashing to the floor.

“What are you saying, babe? What do you mean ‘Why are we even doing this?’” Promoto can’t believe he even has to say it. “We have to keep going because when Noct comes back --”

“He will die!” Ignis’s shout rips from his throat and his next words are hoarse and broken. “When Noct comes back, he will pay the ultimate price for a new dawn. So tell me,” his voice is back to a rough whisper. “What is the point of it all?”

“Noct will… he will…”

Ignis whirls to face Prompto and it is eerie how he’s able to train his cloudy gaze with such focus. “He will die. All of this so that Noct… so we can send him to his death. So we can lose him after we --”

There is a hollow ringing in Prompto’s ears as he tries to process Ignis’s words. In truth, he isn’t really surprised. He knew it would be something like this. He and Ignis had talked at length about what happened at the Altar of the Tidemother, and Ignis had revealed enough for him to piece together a picture of what’s to come. It just feels so final, so inescapable, when it’s given a name and voiced out loud.

“I think Noct would say it’s worth it,” Prompto says in a low voice. “Everything we’re doing now to bring back the light? He’d say it’s worth it. Because it’s not just about him, right? It’s not about just us. It’s about… it’s about everybody else. This fate? I think he’d accept it. I think he’s already come to terms with it, actually. Wherever he is. It’s what a king would choose. It’s what a king would do. What Noct would do.”

He closes the distance between him and Ignis in one stride and captures both of Ignis’s hands in his. “I’m here, Iggy.” He lifts those beloved hands toward his lips and kisses them. “I’ll be here when Noct comes back and I’ll be here when he… says goodbye. You know that right? I’m always here.”

Ignis nods. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, as if to blot out a persistent thought.

“It’s okay, Iggy,” Prompto says. He cradles Ignis’s face in his hands and places a kiss on the starburst scar.

Ignis’s tears finally break through his self-control at the touch of Prompto’s lips. He falls to his knees and wraps his arms around himself, as if to hold the broken pieces of him together. His body rocks with the force of his sobs, his breath is short and quick, and his heart, Prompto knows, is aching with a years-old loss that still burns and burns and burns. “I’m sorry,” he manages to choke in between ragged breaths. “I’m sorry.”

Prompto sits down in front of Ignis and pulls the weeping half of his soul onto his lap. “Don’t apologize, babe. I understand,” Prompto murmurs as he combs his fingers through ash brown strands.

Ignis cries for a long while, and Prompto rocks him through it. “Ssh, it’s okay. I got you, babe, I got you,” he says over and over. He doubts Ignis can hear him at all, but he speaks all the same, because he knows Ignis would need a way back from the dark depths of this old heartache.

When the tears finally stop, Ignis whispers another ragged “I’m sorry.” He presses an apologetic kiss onto Prompto’s forearm, just near the barcode tattoo, the only part he could easily reach, artlessly sprawled as he was half on the floor and half on Prompto’s lap.

Prompto smiles gently at him. “I understand, babe. It’s okay,” he says again. “Now c’mon. Quick shower before bed, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Exhaustion settles heavily upon Ignis. It’s evident in his heavy tread, the slump of his shoulders. When they reach the bathroom, it’s as if he doesn’t know what to do. He just stands there on the threshold, bathed by the faint glow of the bulb, unmoving and lost.

Prompto moves for him. He undresses Ignis, slowly, carefully, with no intent of romance or seduction. Piece by piece, he removes each article of clothing and wishes that unburdening oneself could be as simple. Ignis sighs deeply when he’s finally completely naked and a flicker of hope burgeons in Prompto’s chest.

He divests himself of his own clothes much quicker than he’d undressed Ignis, and soon he’s leading them to the shower stall. There’s hardly any hot water left in the taps these days, but they luxuriate in the time they have, washing the grime off their bodies and some of the weight of the world off their shoulders.

They lay in bed in silence afterwards, Ignis curled on his side and Prompto wrapped around him in a protective embrace. He was nearly asleep when Ignis speaks. “Prompto? May I…”

“Yeah? What is it?”

Ignis turns to face him and trails a finger down his arm. “Is it okay if I… if it’s alright with you, may I…”

Prompto nods in understanding. “Of course, babe.” He pulls Ignis on top of him and kisses his lips. “I’m here.”

Ignis makes slow, gentle love to him, soft kisses and fevered touches, until he’s shivering with want and need.

“Come on, Iggy,” he breathes as Ignis pushes into him again. “That’s… oh, that’s it. You feel so good. So good.” He lets out a long sigh of content.

Ignis presses his forehead onto Prompto’s as he rolls his hips, pulling out and thrusting back in deep with a groan. He comes like a cresting wave, slow in its approach but devastating in its wake, and takes Prompto with him.

When the wave subsides, Prompto feels a hot tear roll down Ignis’s cheek and drop onto his own.

“Babe, please don’t cry.”

“You know that I’m here for you, too, don’t you?” Ignis says. “For as long as you want me. For as long as --”

“I love you Iggy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> If you want to holler at me on Tumblr, I'm also raidelle over yonder. ;)
> 
> Much love. ♡♡♡♡♡


End file.
